After eating for some time in silence, and having tried to draw out his host without success, Nigel changed his tactics and said—­

“You were so kind as to speak of me as your guest, Mr.——­ Mr.——­ I beg pardon, may I—­”

“My name is Van der Kemp,” said the hermit quietly.

“Well, Mr. Van der Kemp, I must tell you that I am quite willing to accept the position for which Moses hired me—­”

“No, I didn’t,” contradicted the negro, flatly yet very gently, both in tone and manner, for long residence with the hermit had apparently imbued him with something of his spirit.

“Well, then,” said Nigel, “the position for which Moses should have hired some one else. (’K’rect now’ whispered Moses.) Of course I do not intend to ask for or accept wages, and also, of course, I accept the position on the understanding that you think me fit for the service.  May I ask what that service is to be, and where you think of going to?”

“The service,” returned the hermit slowly and with his eyes fixed on the floor as if pondering his reply, “is to accompany me as my attendant and companion, to take notes as occasion may serve, and to paddle a canoe.”

At this reply our hero almost laughed, but was prevented from doing so by his host asking abruptly if he understood canoeing.

“Well, yes.  At least I can manage what in England is known as the Rob Roy canoe, having possessed one in my boyhood.”

“That will do,” returned the hermit gravely.  “Can you write shorthand?”

“I can.  A friend of mine, a reporter on one of the London dailies, once gave me a few lessons, and, becoming fond of the subject, I followed it up.”

“That is well; you did well.  It is of immense advantage to a man, whatever his position in life, that he should be able to write shorthand with facility.  Especially useful is it in commerce.  I know that, having had some experience of commercial life.”

At this point in the conversation Nigel was startled by what was to him an absolutely new sensation, namely a shaking or trembling of the whole cavern, accompanied by faint rumbling sounds as if in deeper caverns below him.

He glanced quickly at his host and at the negro, but to his surprise these remarkable men seemed not to be aware of the shaking, although it was severe enough to cause some of the furniture to rattle.  Observing his look of surprise, Moses remarked, with a benignant though capacious smile, “Mountain’s got de mulligrumps pritty bad jist now.”

“We are pretty well accustomed to that,” said the host, observing that Nigel turned to him for an explanation.  “No doubt you are aware that this region is celebrated for earthquakes and volcanoes, so much so that the inhabitants pay little attention to them unless they become unusually violent.  This island of Krakatoa is itself the fragment of an extinct volcano; but the term ‘extinct’ is scarcely applicable to volcanoes, for it is well known that many which were for centuries supposed to be extinct have awakened to sudden and violent activity—­’quiescent’ might be a more appropriate term.”